Story Behind the Song
I was sitting in a bathtub in 1991 and all of a sudden this entire song came to me; thoughts, words and melody. It hit me that I was holding this entire creation in my mind and I became terrified that I would forget a part and the whole thing would collapse.
I jumped out of the tub soaking wet, grabbed a yellow legal pad and proceeded to transcribe the entire song, word for word. It just flowed word for word out onto the page. I still have the original legal pad, complete with numerous drip stains from the water that ran off my fingers and soaking wet body. I grabbed a towel, quickly dried off while humming the melody lines repeatedly, sat down at a small keyboard with a small memory allotment and played them in. It was the first song I ever wrote.
I later did a crude, yet oddly charming, version using a friend's small midi sequencer. Six years later, I had the opportunity to corrall some big, I mean BIG dog players, national and international caliber players for a session in a really cool studio located in a Carriage house, of all places. The fiddle/mandolin player had won the international fiddling championship in Michigan two years before. The drummer was the touring timekeeper for Manhattan Transfer for five years: you get the picture. The session lasted three hours.
A telecaster-slinger friend waltzed in the next day, listened to the tracks, paused and commented, "I'd like to play your melody on this here 1980 tele through my Fender blackface Twin Reverb, which he proceeded to authoritatively do. Almost as an afterthought he said, "I'd like to burn down a bridge on the way out (run a lead over the outro vamp): and burn it down he did. After which he grinned, promptly packed up and drove back to Iowa with the sultry barmaid that he had brought along, who by the way, did the sultry barmaid backup vocals impromptu while he was packing up.
Lyrics
THE SEVENTH DAY
From the CDs entitled The Brilliant Failure & Paganville by L.A. Cowboy
All lyrics and music by J. Frederick Millea
When I was young, I learned what was right,
and I said my prayers before bed at night.
But as I got old, the struggles got real,
so I learned how to fight and forgot how to feel.
Well the days got long and the nights got mean,
my heart got wild and my soul got lean.
Then I had my fill ‘till alone I’d cry... ’cause
I didn’t want to live and I didn’t want to die.
When my conscience started bothering me,
I’d just drink more liquid apathy.
Then I met a lady of substance and style,
hoped she’d take my mind off me for awhile.
Well, she butted my smoke and she spilled my drink,
said, “I ain’t the kind of woman you think”.
When I asked her what to do about love,
she smiled and pointed up above.
Well, I really thought she wanted to stay,
but she disappeared on the seventh day.
She went away, she went away.
And the note she left stole all I had to say.
A statement plain and hard and true,
it said, “What you want from me won’t satisfy you.”
And then I prayed, I had to pray.
I said, “Help me make it through another day.”
And it was strange, but it was real,
as He cleansed my heart and I began to heal.
Well, the day was spent, the hour was late.
so I make a move to challenge my fate.
Then I put the cork in the problem at last,
put the future on hold to deal with the past.
‘Cause I had a lot to forgive and forget,
trying to pluck the posies out of the pit.
Then I took that word and followed the light,
trying to be like Him with all of my might.
I asked the Lord to show me the way
and He said let’s meet at the Seventh Day.
The Seventh Day, the Seventh Day,
well the Good Book said there ain’t no other way.
The Seventh Day, yea, the Seventh Day,
as He gave me peace and took my burden away.
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